


A sitting duck

by motorradfahrerin



Series: Birds of a feather flock together [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Angst, Assault, Attempted Murder, Blood and Violence, Conflicted Originial Percival Graves, Good Original Percival Graves, Homophobia, Hurt Newt Scamander, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Mistreatment of Prisoners, Murder, Police Brutality, Protective Gellert Grindelwald, Protective Newt Scamander, Seer Gellert Grindelwald, Self-Sacrifice, Theseus returns as the bad guy, Torquil Travers is a scumbag, Violence, and Newt has to pay for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-08-11 08:42:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20150815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motorradfahrerin/pseuds/motorradfahrerin
Summary: A few months after the events described in‘An unlikely turtle dove’, Newt comes across the missing obscurus Credence by chance one day. He manages to win the obscurial’s trust, but the two of them are soon found and chased by aurors. They try to make their escape, but Newt quickly realises that only one of them will be able to get away. Unsuspecting of the pain lying in wait for all of them, Newt has to make up his mind when the aurors drive him and the boy into a corner.Meanwhile, Theseus is out for his brother’s blood and the repercussions of the decision Newt has to make will be worse than he’d have thought.While director Graves’ morals are going to be put to the test, Grindelwald will stop at nothing to save Newt.





	1. Sacrifices

**Author's Note:**

> Now, here it is, the sequel! 
> 
> I came up with the plot one night when I couldn’t sleep and I admit, I wasn’t really sure if I should write this fic since it'll venture into some rather violent territories. In the end I obviously did write it, but this fic is definitely not going to be as fluffy as the first instalment of this series. So, buckle up and please heed the warnings in the tags!

Their feet were pounding onto the cobblestones, the noise of their soles slapping the ground loud in the still night air. Soaked in sweat despite the bitingly cold air, the two men ran like their lives depended on it. In a way they did, Newt thought, since the aurors chasing after them certainly wouldn’t hesitate to use lethal force to attack the innocent boy he was trying to rescue.

Newt had found Credence only about half an hour ago. With his gentle approach he had managed to gradually win the cautious Obscurial’s trust. Since Newt had been able to track the boy down to the dingy shed in some derelict backyard in Berlin though, the aurors had no trouble working out Credence’s location as well.

Just when Credence had allowed Newt to come within arm’s range, the shed’s shabby entrance door was blown off its rusty hinges. Diving to the ground to duck away from the splinters shooting through the air, Newt landed sprawled on the floor right beside Credence.

“Take my hand!” Newt urged, downright pleaded, while praying that the boy would be brave enough to trust him. When the first aurors started to flood into the crammed space, Credence made up his mind and, taking a leap of faith, put his hand into Newt’s.

Promptly apparating away, the two fugitives managed to evade the first few stunners thrown their way in the nick of time. Reappearing in a street only a few blocks away from Credence’s hiding place, both men scrambled to their feet.

“Come on, they’ll track us any second!” Newt said, trying to keep his panic contained for the sake of not frightening the already shaking boy further. Credence was quick to follow his rescuer, both men sprinting down the street they had appeared in. At the next corner, Newt randomly choose a direction to run off into, only caring to put as much distance between himself and the aurors hot on their heels. From the next street over, Newt was able to hear the pop of apparation that signalled the aurors had already managed to track and follow them.

Not slowing down and nearly skidding around the next corner, Newt threw a panicked glance over his shoulder to gauge whether their pursuers had already caught up. The aurors indeed had done just that, but the spells they threw Newt’s and Credence’s way harmlessly impacted the wall of the house the two fugitives had just disappeared behind.

Knowing he had to apparate away or they wouldn’t be able to dodge the next volley of spells, Newt silently thrust out his hand to Credence who did not hesitate to grab it. Apparating another few blocks away, Newt did not release Credence’s hand once they had reappeared in a nondescript, dark side street. Pulling the boy along, Newt once more started sprinting away in a random direction. When they both rounded the next corner however, they were greeted by the sight of 5 aurors standing in an orderly line at the other end of the street.

Abruptly skidding to a stop, Newt barely managed to throw up a shield in time to block the aurors’ spells. Shoving Credence back behind the corner, he kept up the shield for a few seconds longer as he gathered his magic. Apparating and side-alonging Credence had already cost him a lot and Newt knew he could only apparate the both of them another one or two times before he would be drained. Quickly calculating the best action for their desperate situation, Newt made up his mind and prepared to apparate himself and Credence over a bigger distance.

Dropping his shield as he hushed around the corner Credence was hiding behind, Newt grabbed the boy by the shoulder right before he released his magic. Reappearing on the other side of town in a narrow dead-end street with a loud pop, Newt staggered and fell to his knees. Panting and trying to regain his breath as much as he could, Newt knew they could run no longer. His hand shaking badly, the magizoologist made up his mind and pulled off the dull golden ring adorning his right ring finger.

“Newt! Are you alright?” Credence asked in that moment. The boy had knelt down beside Newt, his expression scared and concerned as he tentatively put a hand on the redhead’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Newt replied, forcing a small smile onto his lips. “Yes, I’m alright! Just- need to catch my breath for a moment. No need to worry for me!” he added, intending to reassure the frightened young man he was trying to protect.

Reaching out, Newt gently took hold of Credence’s left hand and pressed his golden ring into it. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to go on without me from here on out,” Newt explained as he closed the boy’s fingers around the ring he had put into his hand. Trying to keep a brave façade, Newt had to stop himself from contemplating the consequences his decision would have.

Keeping a hold of Credence’s hand and swallowing the lump in his throat, Newt continued, “It’s a magic ring that’ll take you to safety. You only have to think about leaving and it will activate, ok?” Newt asked, hoping the boy had understood.

Conflicted, Credence first regarded his hand in which he now held the golden ring, then he turned his gaze to the obviously very worn out magizoologist.

“But…,” Credence started, near whispering, “But what about you?”

“Oh, the ring can only take one,” Newt replied, “but don’t worry! I’ll be fine!”

“Don’t you have another ring?” Credence inquired, brows creased in worry.

“No, I’m afraid I just got the one,” Newt said, doing his best to keep his dread at bay, if only for the boy’s sake.

After all, the magizoologist was all too aware that the aurors would likely be upon them any second now. Since there was a high risk that the aurors would overreact and once more try to kill or maim Credence if he’d lose control over his obscurus, Newt didn’t have to think too long before he had handed over his ring. Credence was an innocent and would stand no chance against the forces of the obviously well trained aurors that were chasing them.

Throwing a look over his shoulder to reassure himself they were still alone, Newt turned back to Credence with a pleading expression.

“Please, Credence, you have to go now!” he urged, fearing the boy might refuse his sacrifice and the aurors would do whatever they were going to do to both of them. “The aurors will be here any second!” he added, as he lightly pushed to boy away from him.

“But I can’t just leave you behind!” the boy protested, looking like he was near tears.

“Yes, you can and you will!” Newt declared, aiming for a stern tone.

“But-“

“There’s no time!” Newt interrupted the worried boy, “You have to leave! Now! Gellert will take good care of you and come to fetch me later on, ok?”

Credence opened his mouth to say something in reply, but a series of loud pops coming from the entrance of the dead-end street interrupted him. Struggling to his feet at the sight of the aurors, Newt weakly shoved the still hesitating boy off of himself.

“Go, Credence! Please!” the magizoologist begged, desperate to get the boy to leave already before it would be too late.

Teary eyed, Credence stared back at Newt for a second before he glanced down at the ring inside his balled fist.

“Ok,” he whispered, before the portkey activated and took him to safety.

Not having any time to feel relieved that Credence would be safe from now on, Newt had to put his full concentration into blocking the spells the aurors bombarded him with. Struggling badly as he barely managed to keep himself on his feet, the magizoologist gave his best to defend himself from the steadily advancing aurors.

His adversaries were trained duellists and outnumbered him in the dozens though and Newt knew that he stood no chance against them, even if his magic had still been at full power. Despite being aware he wouldn’t be able to get out of this unscathed, Newt clenched his teeth and gave his best, stubbornly refusing to bow down and surrender without putting up at least some fight first.

That the magizoologist managed to fend off the aurors for a whole minute had more to do with pure luck and stubbornness than skill though. Newt’s luck finally and inevitably ran out on him a moment later, when a hex broke through his defences and hit him in his left upper arm.

At first Newt only felt a burning heat like someone had put a hot poker to his arm before a blindingly sharp pain raced up his injured arm’s nerves. Unable to stop himself from crying out, Newt grabbed at his heavily bleeding upper arm. His defences falling along with him when Newt’s knees buckled underneath him, the magizoologist was unable to block any of the following attacks. Whimpering, Newt briefly stared at the blood soaked hand he had reflexively clasped over his wound, before he gazed back at the aurors marching towards him.

Tears streaking down his face, the magizoologist was only able to watch in horror as the auror spearheading the crowd raised his wand and aggressively sliced it through the air. The magizoologist wasn’t able to identify the spell the man had cast, but when it hit him in the chest a second later, it felt like a freight train had run into him at full speed.

The spell catapulted the defenceless magizoologist backwards, the force of it even lifting him up from the ground. Flying through the air like a marionette with its strings cut, Newt could do nothing to lessen the repercussions of the inevitable impact. When the magizoologist hit the brick wall at the end of the dead-end street a split second later, his head made a dull thud when it impacted on the unyielding bricks. Newt was subsequently knocked unconscious before he could even register any of the pain the impact surely must have caused.

Their wands still held aloft and ready to attack at any time, the aurors only approached the redhead slumped onto the dirty ground before them after he hadn’t moved for a few seconds. Even though they ascertained that the magizoologist was definitely unconscious and would certainly stay so for the next few hours, they still put him chains. After superficially checking on his injuries, they deemed the heavily bleeding wound at the back of the magizoologist’s head as well as on his upper arm no reason not to side-along him back to their headquarters.

Not the least caring for their captive’s well-being or comfort, two aurors roughly pulled the redhead up from the ground by the chain connecting the cuffs on his wrists. All at once the team of aurors apparated away on their leader’s signal, only two of them staying behind to try and trace where the obscurus had portkeyed off to. When the two aurors that had stayed behind had no luck what so ever at picking up any of the boy’s traces, they followed after their fellows a few minutes later.

The only signs that something had ever happened in the deserted dead-end street now being Newt’s blood where it had dripped onto the ground and splashed onto the brick wall he had been thrown against.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, did I promise too much when I said there’d be angst and pain? I’m so curious to know what you think :D
> 
> (Also, I’ll keep the previous weekly update schedule and post new chapters on Wednesdays!)


	2. Repercussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grindelwald’s reaction to things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for the many kudos and lovely comments!

Disorientated and still affected by the aftereffects of the portkey-travel, Credence reappeared in a high-ceilinged room with a loud pop, interrupting something that looked like a meeting. The handful of people sitting around the large oak desk jerked in their seats before they abruptly whirled around to where he had appeared, their wands raised.

“Credence?” the dark lord that Credence had met in in New York in the disguise of Percival Graves spoke up though.

Swiping his arm through the air to silence his followers’ protests, Grindelwald slowly approached the boy that had rather unexpectedly appeared in the middle of his strategy meeting. The strategy room was in the best protected part of the castle, the additional wards around it only allowing three people to apparate or portkey directly inside. Since two of those people where already inside the room, Gellert knew instantly how Credence had made it inside.

Remaining calm and doing his best to appear non-threatening, Gellert walked over to the shaking boy.

“Credence,” he spoke softly, “please, tell me what happened.” Slowly reaching out to the boy, Gellert put his hand over the one in which Newt’s ring was resting. “Where’s Newt?” he asked, a troubled and deeply concerned frown marring his face.

Suddenly breaking out into fresh tears and hunching in on himself, Credence babbled, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Shh, shh! It’s alright!” Gellert was quick to assure the clearly frightened and distressed young man. Gently putting his hands on Credence’s shoulders, he added, “No one is blaming you, my boy!” Lightly stroking his hands up and down Credence’s upper arms, Gellert managed to somewhat calm the boy back down.

“None of this is your fault,” Gellert muttered, further soothing the still shaking boy. “I just want to go and fetch Newt, you know? Before I do that though, I have to know where he is and what has happened to make him give up his ring,” Gellert explained calmly. “Do you understand, my boy?” he asked gently as he searched out the boy’s reluctant eyes.

Shyly peering up at Gellert, Credence sniffed and wiped away his tears before he haltingly started to retell the events that had taken place in Berlin and that had eventually led to him being here.

While Gellert was hanging on to Credence’s every word, he seemed to forget to keep a lid on his unruly magic though. As a result of his temporary lapse in control, Grindelwald’s magic had started to seep out into the room and had caused the air pressure to shoot up, making it feel like the room was suddenly under water. Waves of malice rolled off the dark lord and spread out across the floor like an oil spill.

Feeling like they had been hit by an immobilising spell, Grindelwald’s followers could only sit in their chairs and watch the catastrophe happing before them, half horrified, half awed by its sheer monstrosity. To them it was like a chasm has open right in the middle of the room, a maelstrom of dark and wild magic rushing through its bottomless depths and Grindelwald right in the centre of it.

Hermann seemed to be the only one able to eventually free himself from his stupor. Cautiously stepping forward, he walked closer to the source of the oppressive magic. Knowing that the dark lord currently needed him as his friend and not as his general, Hermann dared to address Grindelwald like he otherwise never would in front of his subordinates.

“Gel, please,” Hermann pleaded softly, knowing he wouldn’t need to shout for his friend to hear him, “We’re going to get Newt back! He’s not irrevocably lost!”

His expression abruptly shuttering, Gellert harshly reined in and locked up his unruly magic. The air pressure in the room suddenly returning back to normal levels had the ears of Grindelwald’s followers popping as they gasped in the abruptly thinned out air.

Back in full control of his magic once more, Gellert calmly picked up and put Newt’s ring on the same finger its counterpart was resting on. As if pulled by a magnetic force, the two rings clicked together once they had come close enough to each other.

“Sorry I have to leave already, but I’ve got to go get Newt,” Gellert said apologetically as he gave Credence’s shoulders a last squeeze.

With an impenetrable mask of calmness on his face, Grindelwald turned to his right hand man. 

“You’re in charge, while I’m gone,” Gellert ordered, his expression closed off. “Take good care of Credence.”

“At least let me come with you!” Hermann argued as he made to follow his friend.

“No! I’ll handle this on my own,” Gellert declared, his tone of voice broking no arguments and making it clear that this was his final word.

With a concerned frown on his face, but knowing there was nothing he could do about it, Hermann watched as his friend walked out of the room. Once the door had closed behind Gellert, the commander approached the confused and miserable boy standing motionless and once more hunched in on himself in the middle of the room.

“Credence, was it?” Hermann addressed him kindly. At the nod he received from the boy, the commander motioned at himself and added, “Welcome, my name is Hermann and I assure you you’ll be save here. If you’d follow me, then I’ll show you to the guest room you can stay in, alright?”

“Ok,” the boy muttered meekly.

Smiling as he gently put his hand on the boy’s upper back, Hermann started to steer Credence out of the meeting room, knowing that the shy young man most likely need to be in a calmer and less public environment to be able to fully calm himself down.

As they made their way through Nurmengard’s long corridors, Hermann felt the moment Grindelwald left the castle by the faint ripples shortly running through its wards. Hermann sighed and hoped everything would turn out alright in the end, for both Gellert and Newt. He was glad to note though that at least Newt wouldn’t have to worry about his beasts, since he had left them all behind here in the castle. Still, it looked like the beast-care crash-course the magizoologist had given him and some of his men a few months ago would unfortunately have to be put to the test today.

**~ A few hours later in an non-descript underground cell ~**

Newt slowly regained consciousness, his senses coming back to him one by one. The first thing he registered was that he was lying on his back, before he became aware of the massive headache mercilessly pounding away behind his temples. Feeling like his head had been split open, Newt screwed his eyes shut and remained motionless a few minutes longer until he had gotten a better grip on himself.

Self-preservation instinct had him peeling his eyes open eventually though and with bleary eyes Newt tried to get a read on where he was. The non-descriptive, empty white room didn’t give anything away though. Gradually becoming aware of the many deep bruises strewn all over his body, Newt groaned and wondered if maybe he had been put through a blender. Despite the aching bruises, Newt still carefully tensed to test his muscles, before he slowly sat up in the bed he had been placed on. When he tried to slightly move his arms though, the sharp pain suddenly slicing through his left upper arm made him briefly see black.

Gasping and hunching in on himself, Newt took stuttering breaths. He was half panting as he tried to supress the panic trying to set in as he willed the pain to die down already. Once the sharp stinging of the wound on his arm had finally ebbed off to an insistent throbbing a few minutes later, Newt was finally able to glance at his injured arm. He had to stop himself from flinching though when he noticed all the dried blood caked on his right jacket sleeve as well as on the bed he had been laying on.

Moving very carefully, Newt sluggishly rubbed at his aching and raw wrists. The handcuffs on them had been fastened uncomfortably tight so that they were biting into his flesh.

Trying to remember what had happened after Credence had portkeyed off to safety, Newt had to concentrate and rake his brain for a minute before his memories came back to him. Reasoning that the aurors must have put him into some kind of holding cell, Newt tried to pluck up some courage. He told himself that his situation could have been much worse. After all, the magizoologist wouldn’t have put it past the aurors to go over board and accidentally kill him back when he had resisted their arrest attempt.

Now that he had survived the initial assault, Newt thought that he would probably be fine from now on. Gellert was surely already out there looking for him and would come to his rescue soon. While trying to keep a positive outlook despite the dire situation he found himself in, Newt kept repeating the phrase ‘_worrying only means suffering twice_’ inside his head like a mantra. 

**~ A few hours ago in Berlin ~**

Gellert had followed Credence’s description of the place he had last been at and had apparated to a small side street somewhere in Berlin. Analysing the intricate magic woven into Newt’s ring, Gellert managed to suss out the point of origin from where Credence had activated its portkey-function. Not caring that it was broad daylight by now and that the streets were busy, he apparated as close as he could to the place Newt and Credence had last been at.

Grindelwald’s sudden appearance in the middle of a busy shopping street that was filled with all kinds of stores, caused quite the tumult. His face stony, the dark lord didn’t even register the chaos breaking out around him as he single-mindedly made his way over to a nearby side-alley that ended into a dead end.

“Hey, you there! Stop whatever you’re doing and drop your wand!” someone shouted from somewhere down the street though.

The startled and frightened shop-owners watched from whatever they had taken cover behind as two aurors came running at Grindelwald from behind. Mid-sprint the aurors suddenly seemed to get hit by something though and their either unconscious or dead bodies fell to the ground like sacks of potatoes. Whimpering in fright, the shop-owners huddled closer to their loved ones and were powerless to watch as Grindelwald turned into the narrow dead-end street down the road without even once glancing at the commotion that had happened behind his back.

Stopping halfway inside the narrow dead-end street, Gellert crouched down when he noticed a rusty red patch of something that was most likely blood on the ground. Fearing the worst, Grindelwald cast a spell that analysed the dried blood and would be able to identify its owner in case it found a match in its data pool. Remaining as motionless as a statue, the dark lord patiently waited for the spell to run its course.

‘_How had I not foreseen this?_’ Gellert thought, rebuking himself for his monumental oversight. This was all his fault! He had no one else to blame but himself! And even worse, now it was Newt who had to pay for his mistakes! He should have tried harder to foresee any possible dangers lying in wait in Newt’s future! What use was his damn Sight, if it couldn’t even warn him about his darling being in danger?!

Blowing out an angry breath through his nose, Gellert knew he had to calm himself down before he did something he’d regret. Taking solace in the fact that he at least knew for certain that Newt was still alive, Gellert briefly closed his eyes and took another calming breath.

_‘I would have felt it if Newt had been killed_,’ Gellert reassured himself, _‘there’s no way I wouldn’t have!_’

Still, he should’ve done more, could’ve insisted to accompany Newt or at least could’ve made him take a bodyguard along. His security measures should have started much earlier as well. For example, he should have woven more spells into Newt’s ring and should’ve added the function to portkey more than one person to it.

There was nothing to be done about the failures of his past though, all Gellert could do now was to put his full concentration into finding and getting Newt back as fast as possible. A thought creeped into his mind however, that maybe it wasn’t his Sight that had been faulty. Maybe Credence’s obscurus had something to do with his momentous failure as well. Gellert remembered that even well before he had met Newt, he had had trouble foreseeing any events that had in some way been linked with the scared boy the magizoologist had somehow been able to pick up in Berlin.

Gellert’s musings remained inconclusive though, when a minute later a small ding signalled that his diagnostic spell had found a positive match. Checking on its result, Gellert found out that the blood had indeed been Newt’s, just as he had feared. When the spell detected more residues of the same blood in Grindelwald’s close vicinity, the blonde rose from where he had been crouching and went to inspect the back wall of the alley. On the wall’s dirty brick stones, he found a small patch of blood approximately at his eyelevel. The stain was surrounded by smaller splatters, indicating Newt had impacted the wall with quite some force.

Keeping a tight grip on his magic and the stony mask on his face perfectly in place, Gellert clenched his fists and willed his burning blood to cool itself, since now was not the time to lose control. Knowing that it must have been german aurors that had assaulted and arrested Newt, Gellert turned on his heel and headed back to the mouth of the dead-end street.

‘_Well, it looks like I have to pay the german ministry of magic a visit then’_, Grindelwald thought grimly as he made to apparate away. ‘_Oh, how fortunate for me that its headquarters are practically around the next corner_’, he mused, as he vanished from the dead-end street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now would probably be a good time for the German aurors to put in a last-minute request for a day off.
> 
> Stay tuned for more pain and suffering, because Theseus is going to make a reappearance next chapter.


	3. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I’m very grateful for your support and encouragements! ♥  
I feel the need to apologize in advance for this chapter though!

Newt didn’t know how long he sat on the small bed in the otherwise empty white room. The insistent throbbing of his wounds was his only companion in the oppressive silence, but Newt did his best to ignore them. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on more positive things, like the knowledge that his animals and Credence were at least safe in Nurmengard.

It could’ve simply been a handful of minutes, but it was just as likely that it had already been more than an hour when the door to his prison was suddenly thrown open. Jerking out of the slight doze he must have fallen into, Newt lifted his head to find out what was going on.

His eyes widened when his brother Theseus and Percival Graves walked into the room followed by another two aurors he didn’t know. Newt hadn’t seen his brother for more than a year now, but noted that Theseus still looked much the same as he always did. Percival Graves on the other hand might look just as put together as when he had visited Newt at his cottage in England, but there was a certain wariness in the creases around his eyes that spoke of long, sleepless nights. Perhaps something was troubling him, Newt mused distractedly before his train of thought was harshly interrupted.

“Newton,” Theseus greeted coldly, the anger in his voice and expression causing the younger man to flinch back and away from the head auror as his eyes cut to the ground.

Newt had to admit he had nearly forgotten just how harsh his brother’s voice could be if he was truly angered by something. In the past, Newt had always done his best to not let arguments with his brother ever get to this point. Instead, he had usually bitten his tongue and nodded along to whatever Theseus was saying since he knew that the other wouldn’t tolerate even the smallest backtalk if he was really annoyed by something Newt had done (or had rather failed to do).

Theseus meanwhile mustered his pathetic brother with contempt, feeling disgusted by his simple presence in this room. Theseus knew that he would never be able to forgive the younger for his failings and the shame Newt had brought onto their esteemed and good name. Unheeded by the magizoologist’s wounded state, Theseus did therefore not hesitate to immediately dive in into interrogating his captive brother.

“Where is the boy?” the head auror demanded to know, glaring ice cold daggers at the magizoologist.

Newt never lifted his head, since he didn’t dare to directly meet his brother’s gaze. Preferring not to see the anger that must surely be on Theseus’ face, Newt kept his eyes trained on his brother’s polished shoes instead. Scrunching the cloth of his ruined trousers in his right fist, Newt swore to himself that he would never tell the aurors where Credence was, no matter what they’d do to him to force this secret from his lips.

In the end, Newt decided that the best course of action would probably be to remain motionless, even though he could feel his brother’s expectant gaze boring into him in the tense and anticipatory silence that reigned inside the cell.

When about half a minute later Newt still hadn’t opened his mouth to answer the question he had been asked, Theseus rushed forward, his hand raised threateningly as he shouted, “Where is he?!”

Flinching badly, Newt scrambled back on the bed, forgetting for a second about the pain such an abrupt movement would cause. Pulling his knees to himself as he tried to shield his head as best as the handcuffs allowed, Newt whimpered in the expectation of getting hit any second now.

Bristling with anger, Theseus stopped a few steps before the cowering and shaking man on the bed though. Mustering the pathetic magizoologist with disdain, Theseus motioned for the other two aurors to come forward.

“Search him!” Theseus ordered coldly as he stood aside.

The two aurors sprang into action and didn’t hesitate to grab the magizoologist by his ankles and to pull him out of the corner he was cowering in.

Struggling weakly, Newt whimpered and could no longer stop his tears from slipping out.

“Please, stop,” Newt begged as one of the aurors roughly pulled off his shoes while the other got to work on shredding his jacket. As the two aurors continued to roughly manhandle their prisoner like a piece of meat, Newt struggled badly to contain his rising panic.

Never having liked it when strangers had touched him, Newt felt overwhelmed by the two aurors’ crude hands that were suddenly all over him. The forced physical contact and invasive touches made Newt feel violated and caused panic to well up in him. He raised his arms with the intention to stop what the aurors were doing, but he only managed to weakly push at their hands. Once one of the aurors had apparently been fed up enough with his flailing hands, he simply grabbed at the chain connecting Newt’s handcuffs and harshly jerked his arms out of the way.

“It hurts! Please,” Newt pleaded once more, sobbing openly now.

The two aurors continued without pause however, unmoved by Newt’s tears and uncaring about their prisoner’s physical or mental welfare.

Barely able to stand witness to such a coarse treatment of the clearly helpless man before him, Percival threw an appalled glace at Theseus. The British head auror felt the other’s gaze on him but only glanced back at his American colleague coldly, one eyebrow even raised in question as if asking what has gotten Percival’s knickers in a twist.

Clenching his teeth, Percival had to do his best to keep his mouth from dropping open in affront at Theseus’ ruthless attitude. Percival simply found himself unable to understand how the other could be this cruel and to his own brother none the less!

The American was of the firm believe that no matter what crime a prisoner had committed, he still deserved to be treated with at least basic human decency. The director knew that giving in to feelings of anger and revenge would always lead one down a slippery slope, the darkness waiting at the end of it leaving some kind of mark on you even if you’d manage to turn back around in time.

Percival bit his tongue as he watched Theseus’ two aurors pull off the magizoologist’s right jacket sleeve. When Newt let out a cry of pain as the two aurors pulled at the sliced off jacket sleeve over his wounded arm, Percival saw himself forced to intervene.

“Stop! For God’s sake!” the American ordered sternly as he hurried to Newt’s side and pulled the two aurors away from the magizoologist. Percival fixed them with a firm scowl and kept his grip on the two aurors’ wrists tight as he marched them to the other side of the room. Just as he was about to scold them and give them a piece of his mind, he was interrupted by Theseus though.

“You have no right to order my aurors around like that!” Theseus piped up. “I don’t know why you’ve even come here all the way from America, but we for one need to do our jobs and find out where the obscurus is!” he spat as if Percival needed the reminder. “And the sooner we find him the better!” Theseus grumbled as he turned to Newt.

Glaring at the dishevelled, snotty mess of a prisoner before him, Theseus spat, “I’m deeply ashamed to share the same last name with a limp-wristed traitor like you!”

Supressing his flinch at the open hatred with which his older brother had addressed him, Newt gathered all his courage to lift his head and search out Theseus’ eyes. Really meeting his brother’s gaze for the first time since he had entered the room, Newt weakly glared back at the older in defiance.

“Then you might be glad to hear you no longer do!” Newt dared to mutter.

Without leaving Percival or the other occupants of the room any chance to react, Theseus rushed at Newt and grabbed him by his throat.

“You wretched, little maggot! You deserve to burn in hell, just like the rest of you lot!” Theseus spat before he forcefully slammed his brother against the wall behind him, Newt’s head impacting it with a dull thud.

“Now tell me, Newton. Where is the boy?” Theseus hissed, his face contorted into a furious grimace.

Newt couldn’t reply anything though, even if had wanted to. With his eyes screwed shut from the pain that had exploded behind his eyes when his head had once more been smashed against a wall, he could only hang limply in his brother’s bruisingly tight grip. The pain was so bad that Newt wasn’t even able to draw in a breath to shout or cry out.

As Theseus’ grip got tighter, leaving bloody indents on his neck and jaw, the fleeting thought that his own brother was going to kill him, flitted through Newt’s mind. A few seconds later, when the pain in his head had ebbed off a tad though, Newt could finally gasp in a few wheezing breaths despite Theseus’ chokingly tight grip on his windpipe. At the same time, Newt also became aware that his head wound must have reopened, since a sticky warm substance that was most likely his own blood had started to drip down from the ends of his hair, further staining his already ruined shirt.

“Theseus!” Percival shouted what felt like hours later, open panic in his voice.

“Where have you taken him?” Theseus continued unheeded though, even going so far as to further tighten his grip so that it completely cut off Newt’s breath now. Unable to even beg for mercy, Newt struggled weakly in a feeble attempt at dislodging Theseus’ hand.

Thankfully it took Percival only a second to run to the two brothers and to forcefully yank Theseus off and away from his victim.

“This is outrageous and unacceptable behaviour!” Percival reprimanded sharply. “I’m appalled to have ever called someone like you a friend!” Percival spat as he harshly shoved Theseus towards the exit of the holding cell. Glaring menacingly and not letting the stumbling Brit get in a word edgewise, Percival lifted his finger before adding, “And don’t think I won’t report you for your despicable acts!”

Throwing open the holding cell’s door with a sharp gesture of his hand, Percival spat, “Now get out of here!” as he pointed at the hallway beyond the door.

Just as Theseus opened his mouth to retort something, a blaring alarm cut through the tense atmosphere inside Newt’s small, crammed cell. Following the alarm was a loudspeaker announcement that explained that the ministry headquarters in London were currently under attack by Grindelwald. An urgent request was issued for all available aurors to immediately come to London to act as back up in the ensuing fight.

While Theseus’ little henchmen immediately ran from the room, the head auror only followed them after treating himself to a brief, wordless stare-off with Percival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to be called ‘Choices’ and will continue right where this one has left off.


	4. Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exactly today, this fic has reached 50 kudos, while it’s prequel hit the 300 kudos mark! That’s reason enough for me to have a small double celebration!  
As ever, I’m amazed by your awesome support, my dear readers! (っ´ω`c)♡

Deeply disappointed at the lows his former friend had been ready to go to, Percival went to the ajar door and closed it gently. Ignoring the loudspeaker announcement, he turned to the quietly crying man cowering on the bed across the room instead. Taking a deep breath to curtail his raging anger, Percival steeled himself for what he was about to do next.

Making sure not to scare the already terrified magizoologist any further, Percival approached him slowly and without making any sudden movements. Only once he had made it within touching distance, did Newt start to draw back from him. Respecting the other’s boundaries, Percival stopped immediately and lowered himself down onto his knees so that he was at eye level with the shaking redhead. A troubled frown marring his face, Percival spoke up gently.

“My most sincere apologies, Newton. Had I known that your brother would be capable of doing something as revolting as what he just did, I never would’ve let him into the same room with you,” the American muttered softly. After briefly glancing at the magizoologist’s dirty and bloodied clothes, Percival kept his tone of voice calm and collected.

“I’d like to take off your handcuffs,” he continued, “however, I’m not going to come any closer or touch you if you don’t want me to.” Percival briefly bit his lip and threw another troubled glance at the sluggishly bleeding cut on Newt’s left arm and added, “I have to say though that I do worry about your wounds.” Hesitating a beat before further gentling his voice, Percival dared to softly ask, “So, would you perhaps allow me to come closer so I could check on them?”

For a few seconds Newt simply remained in the tightly huddled up position he had taken on after Percival had pulled Theseus off of him and gave no indication he had even heard what Percival had been saying. The American remained motionless though and waited patiently for the other to at least react in some way to his presence.

Distrusting of the peace and quiet, Newt only needed half a minute longer before he had gathered enough courage to slightly lift his head from where he had tightly pressed his face into his pulled up knees. Peering at Percival with fearful green eyes, Newt cautiously gauged whether the American was sincere in his words or not. Percival kept his muscles loose in the meantime and steadily gazed back at the other with his own warm brown eyes, ready to give the redhead all the time he needed to make up his mind.

After critically mustering the auror kneeling before him, Newt eventually gave a slight nod before he muttered his consent.

“Ok,” the magizoologist whispered, much to the director’s delight and relief.

Pleased that he had been deemed trustworthy, for now at least, Percival thanked the other with a gentle smile.

“Thank you,” the American expressed his gratitude verbally as well. Making Newt’s handcuffs click open and fall off with a small wave of his hand, Percival consciously kept his expression open and his posture non-threatening. 

Daring to unwind himself a bit more from his uncomfortable, hunched over position now that the painfully tight cuffs around his wrists were gone, Newt swallowed nervously, but gave the director another nod as a signal for him to go ahead and check on his wounds.

Remaining on his knees, Percival slowly lifted his hands and brought them closer the magizoologist, all the while watching out for any signs of discomfort. Newt only flinched once when Percival’s fingertips made contact with his bloodied shirt though. Avoiding eye contact, Newt kept still and let the director inspect the wound on his arm as he had promised.

“I’m not liking the look of that,” Percival commented as he squinted in concentration at the sluggishly bleeding gash on Newt’s arm. The wound was at least 3-4 centimetres deep and looked like it had been reopened multiple times. Percival lamented the fact that he didn’t have anything on him that might help to reduce the excruciating pain the other must be in. The best he could do was to give Newt’s wounds a basic field dressing that would keep them from getting even worse or infected.

Searching out Newt’s eyes to get his permission before he’d take any action, Percival asked, “I’d like to cast a basic wound-closing-spell on the gash to at least stop the bleeding, if that would be ok?”

His eyes half hidden behind his locks, the magizoologist only managed to briefly meet Percival’s gaze, before he assented with another small nod.

“Alright,” the auror said, before he unhurriedly reached inside his coat and pulled out his wand. Keeping his hands in Newt’s field of vision so that the other could see what he was doing, Percival went to work on treating the wound on Newt’s arm. As he was busy doing so, another loudspeaker announcement cut through the quiet of the room, once more requesting immediate back up and for every auror to come to the London headquarters.

Sniffing, Newt slowly unwound his unhurt arm from where it had been slung around his pulled up knees. Carefully wiping away the snot and tears on his face with his shaking hand, Newt openly studied the other man as he finished treating the wound on his arm.

“A-Are you… not going to London?” Newt asked hoarsely a beat later.

A small, amused smile hushed over Percival’s face as he drew his eyes up from Newt’s wound to meet the other’s curious gaze.

“Nah, I have more important things to do,” Percival declared casually, before unhurriedly putting his wand down when he was done. Newt’s eyes following his every movement, Percival leaned back and had to smile as the magizoologist’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“But,” Newt mumbled softly, as he gazed at the director in bewilderment. “I-I thought you said you wouldn’t help me anymore?”

Smiling charmingly, Percival briefly glanced to the side before he peered back at Newt.

“Well,” the American started, as he got up from the ground, “many things have happened since the last time we’ve met that night in Hamburg. Amongst them, things that have me questioning my superiors and their orders,” Percival confided before he pointed his finger at the wound that must be on the back of Newt’s head. Only once Newt had given him another nod, did he lean forward though to inspect it more closely. After pausing a beat, he delivered the result of his evaluation, “I think you probably have a concussion and I’d like to use the same spell on the laceration on your head that I’ve already used on your arm.”

“Alright,” Newt whispered. He was quicker to assent this time, since he had become significantly less distrusting of the American auror who had been nothing but courteous and careful with him. Trusting Percival wouldn’t abuse the tentative bond he had established between them, Newt turned his face away so that the director had better access to the laceration on the back of his head.

Working quickly and diligently, Percival wielded his wand and continued quietly, “I, as well as a lot of the more liberal minded aurors, do not find ourselves agreeing with our bosses’ recent turn to a more radical stance. We’ve been ordered to employ, in our opinion, unreasonable policies of fear and suppression, only so that our higher ups can save face in front of the public that’s getting more and more critical of them,” Percival explained, his tone of voice light and even bordering on unbothered. “Those new tactics are, in my eyes, disproportionate to the unchanged threat level that did not in any way worsen over the last few months.”

Finishing with the laceration on Newt’s head, Percival put away his wand and kneeled down before the redhead once more.

“I don’t know what happened to ‘_innocent until proven guilty’_, but I feel like it has drastically lost importance in the tumultuous times we find ourselves in,” the American mused, disappointment and worry prominent on his face. Reaching inside his jacket, Percival pulled out his auror badge.

“That’s why I’d like you take this,” Percival added, as he held his badge out to Newt. “It’s charmed and can amongst other things act as a portkey. In this case, the badge will allow you to portkey to the ministry’s London headquarters,” Percival explained in response to Newt’s questioning look.

Slowly reaching out to the magizoologist, Percival gently placed his badge in the other’s reluctant hand. Putting his own hands around Newt’s still faintly trembling fingers, Percival searched out the redhead’s eyes and pleaded, “Please, do not hold the whole of us aurors responsible for the actions of a few rotten apples. Those fear-mongering imbeciles of minsters and politicians do not know the scope of their actions and it is small people like us who have to suffer for their ignorance.”

The American paused a beat at the understanding look he received from Newt, before he suddenly remembered something else that he had intended to tell the other way sooner.

“Oh, and I’m sorry I haven’t mentioned it any sooner,” Percival excused his oversight, “but you’ve been unconscious for about half a day and I’m afraid a certain ‘mutual acquaintance’ of ours has taken your arrest as an inducement to go on a rampage.”

Newt’s head snapped up and he met the American’s gaze with wide eyes. “What did Gellert do?” Newt asked, already thinking about the worst scenarios he could come up with.

“Oh, nothing too bad, yet,” Percival quickly assured the alarmed man before him. “So far, he has torn his way through the German ministry of magic, has blown up a few embassies and has dismantled the estates of a few choice politicians,” Percival said as he calmly counted Grindelwald’s deeds off on his fingers. “As far as I know there haven’t been any casualties, but I’m sure that is going to change sooner rather than later. I’m afraid that Grindelwald’s patience is bound to run our eventually and that when it does, then he’ll will no longer hesitate to simply slaughter every person in his way. I’m also quite sure that you’re probably the only one who could still stop him now.”

“Oh…” Newt remarked softly before understanding settled in. “Oh, no!” Newt added a split second later, his face falling. Suddenly way more agitated then he had been a second ago, Newt nervously worried his lip.

As much as Gellert had changed and had mellowed his strict course since Newt had been with him, Newt still knew what the dark lord could be capable of at his worst. Newt nearly didn’t dare to imagine what kind of atrocities Gellert would be able to commit if he’d truly let go of his morals and humanity. Newt shuddered at the knowledge he had that his husband would do anything to get him back. Newt knew he couldn’t allow himself to dwell on those thoughts any longer though, since he had no time to lose if he wanted to stop Gellert before he did something truly terrible.

“Thank you, Mr. Graves!” Newt said as he snapped his eyes back up to the auror’s.

“Percival, please,” the auror replied as he patted Newt’s hand, smiling gently. “Committing high treason for someone does permit a more familiar address, don’t you think?” Percival joked despite the seriousness of the situation.

“Yeah, it does,” Newt agreed, smiling for the first time since he had been arrested. “You’re welcome to call me Newt as well, but I’m afraid I have to leave now if I still want to stop the worst of it.”

“Of course! See you around then, Newt,” Percival said as he took a step back to give Newt room to activate the portkey.

“Bye, Percy,” the redhead threw in cheekily before he vanished from the room, giving the American a small taste of just how the magizoologist seemed to be able to tame any monster he came across.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, you’re going to get a bit more insight into what Grindelwald has been up to in the meantime.  
Also, next chapter is going to be called ‘Provocations’.


	5. Provocation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By posting this chapter, I’ve now officially uploaded more than 100k words to ao3 via my 3 fanfics, which is another reason for me to celebrate! ✌(◔ ▽◔ )✌  
Thank you all so much for your encouragements, the FB fandom is definitely the best!

**~ 15 minutes earlier at the ministry of magic, London ~**

The British aurors had all heard of the rampage Grindelwald had went on over the course of the last few hours. How could they not have? Their German pendant in Berlin had been wrecked, the dark lord tearing his way through the building like a fury. None of their German colleagues had stood a chance at stopping or even slowing down the madman that demanded to know where the magizoologist they had arrested was kept.

Someone must have sung eventually, since Grindelwald stormed the Belgian embassy in Berlin next. Following the paper trail the magizoologist’s arrest had left behind, Grindelwald then broke into the Netherlandish embassy as well. The British aurors could barely imagine what kind of rage must have fuelled the dark lord once he had found out that the man he was looking for had already been transported to London some time ago.

The damage Grindelwald had done to the Berlin street that housed many embassies from all over the world should have been warning enough to not even think about getting in his way. Grindelwald’s path had briefly lost itself after he had left Berlin, but it didn’t take long until the estate of France’s minister of law enforcement was blown to pieces. The British aurors had only been able to watch with dread and morbid fascination how Grindelwald made his way steadily closer to them.

It was frightening and horrible, the way the dark lord had started his highly successful ad-hoc one-man war. No back-up, no time to prepare and still, nothing so far had even seemed to slow Grindelwald down. The dark lord had torn his way through Europe like a man possessed and for what? One rogue magizoologist that had been apprehended in Berlin?

That was at least the official statement director Travers had given them in their last mission briefing. It was a well-known fact by now that the arrested magizoologist had joined the dark lord’s side, just as it was well-known by now that Grindelwald seemed to be a man who preferred the company of the same sex in his private time. It was also a widely accepted theory that the redhead Grindelwald had been kissing at his big coming out at an equality rally in Barcelona must have been the same man they currently had in custody.

Despite the wild and outrageous theories some tabloids had come up with, the consensus was that Grindelwald and the magizoologist surely were in some way intimately involved. Director Travers and head auror Scamander had as a consequence of that notched up the importance of finding and arresting the fugitive magizoologist a few months ago. Director Travers had explained that by taking the magizoologist, they would be able to get some highly valuable insight into Grindelwald’s business as well as private life. On the other hand, they’d be able to hit the dark lord in a more personal way if they were able to take his favourite toy away from him.

There had been nearly no development in the magizoologist case in the months after that meeting. Well, that had been until this morning when the magizoologist had been spotted in Berlin and in the company of the missing American obscurial none the less. Everything had happened so fast from thereon, the magizoologist quickly apprehended and transported to a small, top-secret subsidiary the ministry kept somewhere just outside of London.

Now, which was about half a day after the magizoologist’s arrival in England, the British aurors all stood gathered on the plaza in front of the ministry headquarters and squad leader Thompson started to seriously doubt his superior’s assessment of the situation. Grindelwald had shown up at their door step a few seconds ago, causing the aurors to take up defensive positions in front of their headquarters. After Grindelwald had appeared, he simply stood at the other end of the plaza though and watched how they hurriedly got into their positions. Thompson noted that the dark lord looked nearly relaxed the way he was standing with his wand grasped lightly in his right hand, its tip pointed at the ground.

As soon as the dark lord had appeared though, bird song and other background noises had abruptly cut off, an eerie silence falling over the plaza. There was a nearly indiscernible thrumming in the air, not unlike when a big thunderstorm was imminent to break out. Gooseflesh rose on the back of the aurors’ arms as invisible waves of intense intent hit them, Grindelwald obviously their point of origin.

The sight of the dark lord caused a shudder to run down squad leader Thompson’s back. He couldn’t tell exactly what it was that made him feel so skittish all of a sudden, but he had a deep gut feeling that his superiors had made a grave miscalculation somewhere in their plan. After all, who would tear through half of Europe like they had nothing to lose, only to get a supposed ‘boy-toy’ back?

Shaking his head to get rid of his distractive thoughts, Thompson focused back on the situation at hand. He and his squad had taken up a position in the flanks as ordered and still Thompson gulped at the sight of the dark lord before him. Grindelwald wasn’t looking like a rabid animal as he had expected. No, the dark lord stood nearly bored instead as he calmly mustered the auror forces before him with a completely neutral face.

Squad leader Thompson had been an auror for many years now, had seen many crimes first hand and had met many a murderer when he had arrested them. He had fought in the war as well and had of course seen people die first hand. By now, he therefore knew how to read a situation and the dark lord’s stony face and motionless stance caused alarm bells to go off inside his head.

Back in the war, when he had still been a naïve recruit, Thompson had once seen a special operations team in action. ‘Killer squads’, they were sometimes called, since they were only send in if the complete eradication of some enemy stronghold had been ordered. Thompson had watched as each of those specially trained soldiers killed more than a dozen enemy wizards that day, all the while looking like they were completely unfazed by the carnage around them.

In the line of his job as an auror, Thompson had then come to know that someone who either looked furious, ecstatic or in at least some way emotionally moved by the death they had caused, was not someone who would be able to take many lives on a larger scaled plan. Back in the war he had learned though what a man who was ready to stop at nothing to achieve his goal or to fulfil his orders looked like. Grindelwald currently had that same unmistakeable, awful stillness about him and in that moment Thompson knew for a fact that the dark lord wouldn’t hesitate to walk over their cold corpses without even glancing down if it’d get him his magizoologist back.

Thompson was so distracted by his worries that he flinched slightly when his boss, director Travers, finally addressed Grindelwald.

“Grindelwald! Did you come here to challenge me and my aurors to a fight?” Travers called loudly towards the still-as-a-statue German.

The dark lord answered with a single stiff nod and remained unmoving otherwise.

“You? On your own?” Travers asked mockingly, a slimy smile on his lips.

_‘Oh no, what is he doing? Is our boss out his mind?’_ Thompson thought as he threw a brief panicked glance at Travers.

“What is one man going to do against hundreds?” the director continued unheeded though and started slowly stepping closer to the dark lord, flanked by his best aurors. “You better give up now, since you’re never going to get your boy-toy back anyway!”

Stone-faced and seeming completely unmoved by the other’s words, the dark lord simply regarded the British director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement thoughtfully.

“Well, nothing to say?” Travers taunted, after his ribbing had went unanswered. Way too reckless, he walked even closer to the dark lord before stopping half-way across the plaza. “Ah, I guess it doesn’t really matter,” Travers threw in dismissively, foolishly self-confident. Raising his wand, Travers added, “Since the time has come for you to finally pay for your crimes!”

The director promptly followed his declaration up by throwing a curse the blonde’s way, therefore starting the battle. Travers’ team of elite aurors each threw a curse or hex of their own the dark lord’s way as soon as Travers had let loose the first spell in this battle to come.

Unlike the aurors had expected, Grindelwald didn’t move an inch from where he was standing and watched the curses streaming towards him with something like cold detachment. A slight flick of his wrist and the dark lord managed to block the curses with a strong shield spell.

Not hesitating the least, Travers and his aurors fired off the next volley of spells before the first one’s had even had enough time to dissolve against Grindelwald’s shield. The second wave was blocked the same way, as was the third. Travers was getting noticeably angrier though, every time the dark lord off-handedly blocked their spells without even retaliating once.

“What are you doing?!” Travers shouted, red faced from anger. “Are you too scared to fight us? Surely you didn’t come here to hide behind a shield like a coward all day?” Travers added in a biting tone of voice.

“No, I did not,” Grindelwald finally spoke up for the first time since he had appeared on the plaza. Though his diction was mildly polite, his tone of voice lacked any emotions. “I came here to fetch the magizoologist you’ve recently arrested in Berlin,” he stated, his voice calm and unbothered. After a brief pause he added, “Hand him over and I’ll leave.”

Travers let out bark of laughter, the sound jarring in the tense atmosphere. “Oh no, your boy-toy will stay right where he is!” Travers replied before he raised his wand. Smiling sickly, he added, “And let me assure you that you’ll have to walk over my cold corpse first if you ever want to find him!”

“Very well then,” Grindelwald stated calmly before he finally raised his wand.

Travers’ smug smile was quickly wiped from his face, when Grindelwald finally switched from his previously passive role to that of an active participant in the fight. Grindelwald’s first bombardment hit the aurors and made them stumble back. It was clear that they had not been expecting the strength and viciousness of Grindelwald’s attack.

His wand slashing through the air, Grindelwald left the aurors no time to catch their breaths. Travers’ men struggled badly when they weren’t confronted by broad, wide-range spells that’d target their group as a whole, but rather by smaller and more ingenious curses that targeted each auror individually.

Without letting up on his rapid fire attacks, Grindelwald started marching closer to Travers and the so called elite aurors backing him. The dark lord’s strategy to bombard his opponents with ceaseless spellfire was extremely effective. Forced into desperately shielding and defending themselves from the onslaught of curses, the aurors fell back, hurrying to get more distance between themselves and the dark lord that had come alarmingly close to them in the meantime. Fortunately they did not have to struggle for long though, since one after another they fell, their bodies littering the ground around their still standing director.

Sweat was running down Travers’ face and he noted with horror how his elite team had been dismantled by the steadily approaching dark lord. He couldn’t tell if they were still alive or only incapacitated for the moment, but that didn’t really matter to Travers at the moment. Throwing up a strong shield to buy himself some time, Travers finally ordered the rest of his so far only watching aurors to attack the dark lord. Much to the director’s relief the sheer mass of their curses forced Grindelwald to a stop.

Grindelwald managed to block the curses with expertly applied counter-curses and a very adaptive shield spell however, which caused the first inklings of doubt to finally creep their way into Travers’ mind. The dark lord looked otherworldly as he stared Travers down with his unnerving mismatched eyes that held only the promise of death in them.

Grindelwald started approaching Travers only half a minute later, the attacks of the rest of the auror forces seeming to no longer be enough to stop him from reaching his target. Panting heavily, Travers scrambled backwards and nearly stumbled over the motionless body of one of his elite aurors. The director cursed but managed to righten himself quickly, however he could still only watch in horror as Grindelwald determinately came after him once more.

Travers’ retreat was stopped a few steps later when he hit the low outer wall of the decorative fountain in the middle of the plaza. He lost his footing and ungainly plopped down onto the flat top of the low wall. Grindelwald didn’t immediately kill him though, but stopped a few feet before director instead. His heart beating at a double staccato, Travers could only sit and watch as Grindelwald cast a circle of blue flames around the two of them.

The unnatural blue fire was vicious and acted highly erratic, lashing out at anyone who dared to cast a spell at them. It therefore served perfectly to keep the mass of aurors busy while Grindelwald took care of their boss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small cliff-hanger, because I’m evil 😉  
I’ll give away next week’s chapter title though, which is going to be ‘Retribution’.


	6. Retribution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more, please heed the warnings in the tags, especially those regarding violence!  
Otherwise, thank you so much for reading, I hope you like this chapter as well!

Squad leader Thompson did his best to contain the flames threatening to burn everything they came in contact with. Coordinating their efforts, he and his fellow aurors soon managed to at least keep the fire from spreading any further. Since they needed all their wands and cooperative efforts to keep the flame repellent shield up, they were now effectively caught in a kind of stalemate. Thompson knew that if any one of them lowered their wand to attack Grindelwald, their shield would most likely falter. A few glances and nods were quickly exchanged between the other squad leaders and it was decided that they’d rather keep up the shield spell than aid their boss.

Since keeping up the flame repelling shield once it had been erected wasn’t such a hard task, Thompson was left with enough opportunity to watch the proceedings inside the ring of fire.

Director Travers was still half sitting on the low wall encircling the decorative fountain when Grindelwald stole his wand and then casually broke it in half. Without even once moving his eyes from Travers’ pathetically frightened one’s, Grindelwald closed the last distance separating him from his victim and grabbed Travers by the throat. Struggling fiercely though, Travers resorted to the only form of resistance he still had left. He kicked out at the dark lord and was successful in forcing the other to release the grip he had had on his throat.

Travers’ victory was very short lived though, since Grindelwald caught his right leg mid kick. In a move too quick to clearly see, Grindelwald jerked the auror closer to himself by the tight grip he had on his ankle. Travers slid down the low wall and his back roughly impacted the ground before he got dragged across it for a few feet. Stopping and stepping up besides the director’s hip, Grindelwald kept one foot firmly planted where it was before he made a half turn and swung his other leg over Travers’ hips. Never having released his grip on Travers’ ankle, Grindelwald pulled back his foot and forcefully kicked out the director’s knee.

There was a sick crunch of breaking bones before a shrill scream of pain pierced through the crackle of the blue flames. After Grindelwald had released the other, the director had bent over and was clutching at his useless leg as he did his best to scramble back from the monster looming over him. It was clear to the aurors observing from outside the circle of flames that Travers only managed to crawl those few feet backwards because Grindelwald let him.

The dark lord watched his groaning mess of an opponent dispassionately for a moment longer, before he went after him once more. Travers had managed to somehow scramble back all the way to the fountain and had been able to pull himself up into a propped up sitting position while leaning heavily on its low outer wall. Not one for giving up easily, Travers raised his fists and lashed out at Grindelwald as soon as the blonde was within striking range. Without using magic, Grindelwald still managed to evade his hits though. After the dark lord had watched his victim desperately squirm for a few seconds he finally seemed to have had enough though.

Grindelwald anticipated the trajectory of the director’s next strike and countered it by trusting his arm forward. Deflecting the other’s fist with his forearm, Grindelwald snapped his hand around and managed to snatch the director’s wrist. He tucked it sharply towards himself and now that he had the director’s outstretched arm in a secure grip, he didn’t hesitate to bring up his knee.

At the same time as his knee hit the director’s elbow, Grindelwald pushed the other’s arm down towards the ground with all his strength. Another scream cut through the roaring of the flames, but Thompson and his squad were unable to do anything but watch as Grindelwald mangled their boss’s arm as well. Once the dark lord had released the other’s wrist, Travers tumbled backwards before he sunk down to the ground, coming to sit sprawled with his back slightly propped up against the fountain wall once more. His bleeding arm hung limply besides his body, the lower half resting at an unnatural angle.

As he let out some more cries and groans of pain, Travers glared at the scarily expressionless dark lord with hate-filled eyes and spat the blood that had welled up in his mouth at him. Grindelwald reacted to that by grabbing the director by his neck before he used his grip to pull the wounded man back onto his feet. The dark lord stared deeply into Travers’ eyes as he lifted his free hand and placed it, fingers splayed out, over the director’s abdomen.

Once Grindelwald’s hand made contact with the other’s soft belly, screams like that of a dying animal echoed through the plaza, the primal sounds making the rest of the aurors shudder in terror. The horrible screaming did fortunately not last too long though, since the blood that had welled up in the director’s mouth soon cut off his screams and turned them into sick gurgling noises instead.

Thompson didn’t know what kind of spell Grindelwald had used, but the amount of malicious dark magic he could feel around the two men in the circle of flames caused his breath to stutter out unevenly. Thompson felt nauseous and knew that Travers’ screams would probably haunt him in his nightmares for a long, long time.

Meanwhile, Grindelwald was standing over Travers like a vengeful god, his expression unmoved as he watched how the rivulets of blood stemming from the director’s eyes rolled down over his cheeks and collected at his cheekbones, only to drip down his chin like grotesque tears.

Travers’ struggles had gotten weaker and weaker over the course of the last two minutes until he hung nearly limply in his tormenter’s grip now. Grindelwald released him in that moment though and the director fell to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. Travers gasped in a few wheezing and wet breaths as he lay in the pool of his own blood that had formed underneath him. Unhurried, Grindelwald watched the half-dead man struggle impassionedly for a few seconds longer before he reached down and grabbed Travers by his hair. Dragging the whimpering man over to the low wall encircling the fountain, Grindelwald fixed him with a chilling gaze.

“This is for daring to take away and hurt Newton,” Grindelwald rasped quietly, yet somehow still loud enough for his words to be heard by the aurors on the other side of the flames.

Not expecting Travers to reply, Grindelwald shifted his grip on the director’s head before he harshly knocked Travers’ temple against the edge of the fountain wall. Not stopping and repeating the action until the other’s head gave to the force of his strikes with a sickening crunch, Grindelwald only dropped the disfigured corpse of the late director when he had made absolutely sure that his head had been thoroughly bashed in.

Once he had taken his revenge on the man officially responsible for Newt’s suffering, Grindelwald straightened up and turned his gaze toward the shell-shocked aurors outside the circle of flames that had been forced to witness their boss’ gruesome murder.

‘_I don’t want to die!’ _Thompson thought in that moment. There was no doubt left in his mind however that Grindelwald would slaughter them all now. His knees were weak and he wanted to be anywhere but here right now, yet he felt rooted to the spot.

In the same moment Thompson send a quick prayer to his wife, the dark lord extinguished the circle of flames that had been protecting him so far. Instead of attacking Grindelwald, the remaining aurors panicked and hurriedly scrambled back in a desperate attempt to seek shelter in the building housing their headquarters.

Thompson knew that they wouldn’t make it to safety in time though. Since they were unable to apparate to safety because of the blasted wards they had set up, the squad leader knew that running away would be pointless. They were doomed. They’d die in the line of duty right here on this damned plaza. Nothing was going to stop the dark lord marching toward them.

Or so Thompson thought, until a lone man suddenly appeared a few feet behind Grindelwald via what must have been portkey-travel.

“Gellert!” the redheaded man shouted before he stumbled toward the dark lord. “Stop!”

Thompson held his breath when Grindelwald halted in his tracks, actually listening to the stranger. The auror also noted that the unexpected newcomer’s formerly white shirt was caked in blood indicating that the man must be seriously injured.

_‘Oh, no! Could it really be?_’ Thompson thought. _‘Is that the magizoologist Grindelwald is looking for?’ _

It seemed so, because Grindelwald simply remained unmoving as the redhead hobbled over and planted himself right in front of him.

“Gellert,” the redhead pleaded, “you have to stop!”

The newcomer slowly lifted his hand without breaking eye contact with Grindelwald. “Please,” he begged as he placed his hand lightly on the wrist of the arm Grindelwald had raised to attack the remaining aurors. “Don’t do this, love,” the redhead that Thompson was now sure to be the magizoologist Grindelwald had been looking for, asked whisper soft.

His heart galloping a mile a minute, Thompson watched in awe as the dark lord actually let the redhead slowly, but steadily push his wand arm down. The squad leader desperately clung to the emerging glimmer of hope that maybe he wouldn’t have to die today after all as he watched how the magizoologist soothed the monster that threatened to kill them all.

“That’s it, love,” Newt praised the other softly. Raising the arm that had much less blood on its sleeve, the magizoologist gently caressed the dark lord’s cheek and muttered, “You can stop now. Please…come back to me?”

While Grindelwald had kept his stare firmly on the terrified aurors so far, his eyes did finally turn to the man standing before him. It was as if he had only now consciously registered the magizoologist’s presence. A shudder seemed to ripple through the dark lord’s stony face, some animation finally returning to it. His previously cold, dead eyes seemed to spark to life at the magizoologist’s gentle touch.

Grindelwald stared at the man before him in awe for a few seconds, before his eyes snapped back towards the aurors. Lips curled into snarl, the dark lord snapped up his wand.

“No!” the magizoologist shouted desperately as he pressed himself as close as he could against the other. His fingers digging into the front of Grindelwald’s jacket, the magizoologist burrowed his face in the curve of the blonde’s neck. The dark lord froze and called off his impending attack the moment the magizoologist started crying bitterly.

“I just want to go home, please,” the redhead whined pitifully. In between trying to contain his tears, he mumbled, “Please, just take me home…”

Grindelwald put the arm not holding his wand around the other’s waist and tilted his head closer to the mob of red hair resting by his collar bone. Snapping his eyes back to the aurors one last time in a gesture that was unmistakably a warning, the dark lord made a small swishing motion with his wand and the next moment he and the man in his arms were gone from the plaza.

Bending over at the waist, Thompson panted in relief now that he didn’t have to hold his breath in anticipation of an early demise anymore. Still slightly disbelieving that he was somehow still alive and completely unharmed at that, Thompson thanked his lucky stars that he’d get the see his wife this evening and could keep simply living his life in general.

The aurors around him were just as relieved as him, some hugging each other and crying in joy that they had been allowed to continue living. Because that was exactly what it was that Grindelwald had done. It was clear to all of them that their lives had literally been in the hands of the battered and frail young redhead that had somehow managed to get out of the cell Travers had stashed him in. They had a complete stranger’s benevolence to thank for their continued well-being and Thompson was painfully aware of that.

Thompson also hadn’t missed the two golden rings on Grindelwald’s finger, just as he had noticed that the magizoologist’s fingers had been unadorned. Thompson had seen some extracted memories of the redhead’s arrest that the Germans had put into his file. He had an excellent memory and was therefore certain that there had definitely been a golden something on Newton Scamander’s right ring finger when the aurors had chased him through Berlin. The sudden realisation of what that meant hit Thompson like a freight train.

‘_Fucking shit!’ _he thought. ‘_Holy Morgana!_’ They had been doubly as lucky to still be alive now in this case then! The magizoologist had been in such a pitiful condition and still he had had enough mercy in him to sway his damn husband’s mind and to save them all.

Those wounds the magizoologist had had though, they kept niggling at Thompson’s mind. Going by the caked blood all around them, they hadn’t been recently acquired, say as when the redhead had somehow managed to escape from custody. ‘_No, they must have happened much earlier_,’ Thompson thought. The magizoologist must have gotten them either at his arrest or while he had been transported here.

‘_Then how come the redhead obviously hadn’t gotten any medical attention in all this time?’_ Thompson asked himself, a heavy frown coming over his face. It was against all rules and codes of ethics to refuse an arrested person treatment from a healer in case that they were in some way injured.

‘_What the fuck had head auror Scamander and director Travers been doing with the magizoologist?!_’ he asked himself next. The magizoologist had frankly looked like death warmed over and had obviously lost a lot of blood. So, to refuse him a healer would amount to the same thing as to submit him to torture.

Thompson threw a highly conflicted gaze over to the fountain in the middle of the plaza, where director Travers’ remains were currently collected and carted off. A rather dark thought that he felt incredibly guilty for slithered into his mind as he watched how his former boss was carried away in a body bag. _‘Maybe Travers had gotten exactly what he had_ _coming,’_ Thompson thought, as he let his gaze aimlessly sweep over the plaza. He absently noted by the medics currently fuzzing over Travers’ incapacitated team of elite aurors that those must still be alive.

As he let his gaze wander further away, a small black bundle on the ground that looked like an auror badge caught his attention though.

‘_Oh, that must be what the magizoologist had used to get here!_’ Thompson realized.

Straightening up, he walked over and picked up the thing that definitely was a genuine auror badge. His eyebrows rose though once he had opened the badge and read the name of the auror it belonged to.

“Percival Graves?” he whispered to himself quietly. _‘What did the American have to do with all of this mess and why had he apparently handed his badge to the magizoologist?_’ Thompson asked himself.

Director Graves was a very formidable duellist, so Thompson knew that his badge could not have accidentally fallen into the battered magizoologist’s hands. He wasn’t sure what this implicated though, but he knew that there must have been much bigger things at play than what he had seen and been informed of. Rubbing his forehead to alleviate his oncoming headache, Thompson pocketed the American’s badge and turned back to join his fellow aurors that were all still milling about on the plaza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve watched all three ‘John Wick’ movies the weekend before writing this chapter and I think it shows a little.  
Also, I tried to include warning tags for all things I thought warranted a warning, but if you feel like a tag is still missing, then please feel free to tell me so I can add it.


	7. Healing

A split second after vanishing from the plaza in London, Newt and Gellert arrived back home in their shared quarters in Nurmengard. The rooms in the castle’s highest tower had originally only been Gellert’s, but Newt had moved in months ago when their relationship had gotten serious. Standing in their bedroom now, Newt clung to Gellert desperately and finally let the tears he had been fighting to contain all this time fall freely. Hiding his face in the crook of the other’s neck, Newt sobbed into Gellert’s soft shirt as he inhaled the familiar smell of his husband that promised only safety and love.

Pulling the redhead in close, Gellert let the other man cry freely and began gently stroking one of his hands up and down his shaking back. All the while he kept on mumbling sweet nothings and soft reassurances, telling Newt that he was safe now and that nothing would hurt him here. His own emotions overwhelmed him though as he felt his shirt getting soaked through where Newt had hidden his face and Gellert couldn’t stop a few tears of his own from escaping his eyes. He nuzzled the side of the other’s head as he let the deep sympathy for the pain Newt had suffered, but also the relief that Newt was safe now flood through him. 

Burying his face in Newt’s hair, Gellert kept his grip light, yet secure around the badly trembling man. They remained standing tightly embraced in the middle of their bedroom until Newt’s knees suddenly got weak a short while later, the adrenalin that had fuelled him so far finally seeming to have run out. Gellert caught him gently though and bridal-carried Newt over to their bed. He carefully lowered himself and Newt down onto the mattress, trying to jostle the hurt man in his arms as little as possible.

In the end, Newt came to rest with his legs draped over Gellert’s lap once the blonde had taken a seat on top of the duvet. Newt slung his arms over Gellert’s shoulders and pressed himself closer once more, hiding his face against Gellert’s neck as he made himself as small as possible.

Now that the adrenalin had seeped out of Newt’s system though, the pain from his many injuries started creeping in once more, which caused Newt to let out a pitiful whimper.

“What is it, my love?” Gellert asked immediately, brows creased and voice full of concern. He softly nudged the other to slightly lift his head so he could get a better read on what was wrong with him.

“Hurts…” Newt whined, seeking out Gellert’s concerned gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Gellert muttered, before he gestured for the extensive first aid kit he kept in the adjourning bathroom room to float over to him and Newt. Keeping one arm looped securely around Newt’s shoulders, Gellert opened the kit one handed and managed to grab the right potion on his first try.

“Please take this,” Gellert said softly, as he uncorked and handed Newt the potent painkiller potion he had picked out.

The magizoologist drank down the slimy liquid eagerly and his tensed muscles relaxed only a minute later as the first effects of the fast acting painkiller set in. Cuddling up to Gellert, Newt let out a soft sigh of relief against the other’s neck as the worst of the pain from his head and from the wound on his arm ebbed off. Taking solace in his husband’s warm embrace, Newt closed his eyes and simply let himself rest for a few minutes.

Gently stroking his hand up and down Newt’s back all the while, Gellert remained silent and gave the other man all the time he needed to at least somewhat get his bearings back. 

After a handful of minutes, Newt finally stopped trembling, the painkiller having effectively washed away all of his pains. The magizoologist finally lifted his head and slightly pulled back from the blonde. As he looked up at Gellert’s face though, he was surprised to find the other’s eyes red rimmed, which indicated that Gellert must have been crying as well.

“We should probably start to have a look at my wounds,” Newt whispered, his voice still raspy from when he had gotten choked by his brother.

“Of course,” Gellert replied as he placed a soft kiss on Newt’s temple. As Gellert lightly trailed the tips of his fingers over the ring of hand shaped bruises around Newt’s neck, he added, “Let me call a doctor-”

“No!” Newt protested immediately though, his expression suddenly turning fearful as his shoulders tensed up.

“Newt, my love, your injuries are rather serious,” Gellert muttered softly, a concerned frown pulling down his brows.

“I know, but please don’t call a doctor!” Newt pleaded, desperation shining through in his tone of voice.

“Shh, shh! Hey, it’s alright!” Gellert quickly consoled the other. “I won’t call a doctor. It’s alright, _Liebling_**1**,” he added as he gently wiped away the fresh tears that had started rolling down Newt’s face. Once the magizoologist had calmed back down and relaxed once more, Gellert sought out his gaze and dared to softly ask, “Can you tell me why you are so averse to a doctor though, love?”

A troubled expression came over Newt’s face before he lowered his eyes to stare at where his hands were resting in his lap.

Picking up on the other’s discomfort, Gellert quickly assured, “You don’t have to tell me, love. I was just curious…”

“No, it’s ok,” Newt mumbled into his lap, fidgeting lightly. “I-I just don’t want a stranger to…to come here,” he stuttered out, his voice getting quieter as he went on, “and… and to touch me…” he added nearly inaudible.

Gellert still caught his whispered words though and immediately pulled Newt close.

“Oh, Newt…” he breathed in the other’s locks, sounding heart-broken and devastated. “What did they do to you?”

The wetness in Gellert’s voice caused deep caretaking instincts to well up in the magizoologist.

“Hey, don’t you start crying as well now!” Newt chided lightly as he met the other’s teary eyes. “It’s enough that I’m already bawling like a baby,” Newt added with a wavering smile, as he wiped the wetness from Gellert’s face.

Newt was aware that Gellert wouldn’t stop worrying for him until he had received some kind of answer to his question though. “When I had been in that holding cell somewhere outside of London,” Newt started to explain, “there…there have been two aurors. T-They have been ordered to search me.” Pausing briefly as he took a fortifying breath, Newt continued, “They…They held me down and started to shred my clothes. And…and I panicked… a bit. They were looming over me and their hands were rough…” Newt admitted quietly, gulping audibly.

“Percival was there though and quickly pulled them off of me,” Newt immediately assured to sooth Gellert’s appalled expression. “He also pulled Theseus off of me as well when… when he tried to choke me to death a few seconds later,” Newt added. He took great comfort in the knowledge that the American auror hadn’t even hesitated to stand up for and help him.

“You mean Percival Graves?” Gellert asked, slightly incredulous.

“Yes,” Newt confirmed. “He did nearly literally throw Theseus and his two aurors out of the room as well after… that. He also stayed behind to treat the worst of my wounds instead of obeying the command for all aurors to come to London.”

“Well, it seems like I owe him quite the apology then,” Gellert muttered. Trying to cheer up the gloomy mood a bit, Gellert added jokingly, “Wouldn’t have thought that the stiff boot-licker had it in him though…”

“He told me goodbye by saying ‘_see you around_,” Newt remarked, mustering up a small smile of his own. “So, I think you’ll probably be able to thank him in person soon.”

Returning Newt’s tentative smile with one of his own, Gellert commented, “As nice as that may be, it still leaves us with the problem of who’s going to take care of your wounds now.” Placing light kisses on Newt’s cheeks, he asked, “Would you perhaps allow me to play doctor, my love?”

“Yes, of course,” Newt agreed without hesitation.

Glowing with pride that the other trusted him so implicitly, Gellert placed a last kiss on the tip of Newt’s nose before he pulled over the first aid kit.

“Tell me where you are hurt then,” Gellert requested gently.

As Newt calmly listed off the many injuries he had suffered at the hands of the aurors and his brother, Gellert felt nauseated as he imagined the kind of pain Newt must have been in the whole time.

It was fortunate that Gellert knew a vast array of healing spells and had a very well stocked medicine kit at hand. Starting with Newt’s head and working his way down from there, Gellert cleaned and closed lacerations, soothed deep bruises and restored damaged voice boxes. In between that, Gellert handed Newt some potions that would cause him to heal up faster and see to it that his wounds remained clean and free of infection. He also gave him a potion that would aid him in replenishing all the blood he had lost.

The soft kisses Gellert placed over his wounds whenever he was done healing them, cheered Newt up tremendously. Warmth bubbling inside him at the other’s affectionate and caring treatment, Newt even let out soft giggles when Gellert kissed his no longer scraped-raw wrists.

When he was done with Newt’s wrists, Gellert reached around the other and pulled the surplus gold ring he had only temporarily kept save, off of his finger. He lightly grasped Newt’s hand and slid the golden ring back into its rightful place on his husband’s ring finger. Newt watched what he was doing and glanced down at his hand, quite moved by the return of his ring that he had given away. Newt lovingly stroked his finger over the warm, dull gold band before he looked up and thanked Gellert with a warm smile. Gellert regarded him with a fond smile of his own, before he distractedly put away the used up potion flasks strewn around the bed.

“Help me out of these rags?” Newt asked as he threw a brief glance at his ruined attire.

“Course, my dear,” Gellert mumbled, smiling warmly. “And how about a sponge bath to get the grime and blood off as well?”

“That would be wonderful,” Newt agreed, “thank you!”

“No need to thank me,” Gellert replied before he carefully started to pry the tattered remains off of Newt. Once the other had been cleaned up as well, Gellert helped the magizoologist to get redressed into his favourite flannel pyjamas.

A handful of minutes later, both men sat cuddled up against each other on their bed. They were dressed down in comfortable clothes and warmed their fingers on the mugs of hot tea Gellert had conjured up.

“How are my animals and how’s Credence?” Newt asked a beat later, as he blew on his steaming mug of tea.

“They’re all fine and unharmed,” Geller assured, awed that Newt was still able to worry for other people’s wellbeing at the moment despite his weakened and tired state. “And I’m sure Hermann has been taking good care of your darlings and Credence,” Gellert elaborated.

“I’m glad,” Newt commented with a relieved, yet tired smile. “The poor boy has been through enough already.” Glancing up from his steaming mug, Newt asked, “Do you think he’d want to see me?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure he does. He’s been very worried for you after all when he had arrived here,” Gellert replied before turning fully to Newt. “How about I order us something to eat before you catch a rest and let the potions work their magic on you? Then we can invite Credence to come visit you first thing tomorrow, once you’ve at least rested for a bit, ok?”

Newt wanted to protest at first, but he felt the bone deep exhaustion that had started to come over him, now that he was save and his wounds had been taken care of. He also remembered that he didn’t really look anywhere close to hale and healthy at the moment and that Credence would probably worry all the more for him if he saw him right now.

“Alright,” Newt therefore agreed to Gellert’s suggestion. “Tomorrow then.”

The blonde replied with a smile and send off a request for some dinner to be delivered to their rooms with a casual wave of his hand. Once an assaulted collection of ingredients for some hearty sandwiches had materialised on the side table across the room, both of them tucked into their meal while staying cuddled up in their cosily warm bed.

As Gellert send the remains of their dinner back to the kitchens after they had eaten, Newt scooted down the bed some more. Mindful of his wounds, Newt draped one of his arms over Gellert’s chest before he yawned widely and finally let sleep take him. Gellert pulled up the blanket some more so that it covered Newt’s shoulders and put an arm around the sleeping magizoologist.

Gellert decided to stay awake and watch over the other, in case something he had overlooked when he had treated Newt’s wounds might make itself known as well as to be there if nightmares dared to disturb his beloved’s rest.

Drowning in guilt at his failure to keep Newt safe and out of harm’s way, Gellert spent the long hours of the night berating himself for his many mistakes. He vowed to himself that he’d take every action necessary to ensure that what had happened today could never repeat itself in the future.

A dark, possessive part of Gellert wanted to forbid Newt from ever traveling again and to instead keep him locked up here in the castle where he could guarantee his safety. Gellert knew though just how much it would hurt Newt if he’d force him to remain in Nurmengard. He was very aware that doing something like that would break every promise he had made to Newt regarding that the magizoologist would always be free to travel where he wanted and when he wanted.

Gellert had known from the start that caging a wanderer like Newt would not be an option, if he ever wanted to win and keep his trust. He dreaded to imagine the divide it’d cause between them, if he’d went back on his word now, just when Newt needed his backing and support the most.

No, keeping Newt from travelling would not be an option. Newt was a free spirit at heart and Gellert knew there’d be nearly nothing worse he could do to Newt than to lock him up in a gilded cage. Despite the unknown threats constantly lurking outside these safe walls, Gellert knew that deep down he wasn’t hard-hearted enough to live with the consequences his decision would have. After all, he was too aware that Newt was sure to hate him for this and would most likely want nothing to do with him anymore.

If today had taught him one thing, then it was that he definitely couldn’t bear to live without the shy magizoologist he had come to love and cherish. He’d have to talk to Newton sometime in the following days after the magizoologist had had some time to somewhat recover from today’s events and the many injuries they had given him. Surely they could find some common ground regarding some improvements to Newt’s security that Gellert liked to implement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a respite from all the pain and misery…  
The next (and unfortunately last) chapter’s gonna be called ‘Bonding’.


	8. Bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter already ꒡⌓꒡  
I had an amazing time writing and sharing this fic though! So, thank you all for reading and supporting me!

**~ Two weeks later at Nurmengard ~**

Percival had just recently arrived at the castle, after he had switched alliances like many other aurors had done as well. He stood leaned against a stone pillar of an archway and watched as Newt went about teaching Credence and training his beasts in the courtyard before him.

A week ago, there had been a big fallout between rivalling movements inside the law enforcement in America and England. In the end, the more liberal-minded aurors had seen themselves forced to turn their backs on their conservative, narrow-minded colleagues the ministry and their higher-ups backed. The only way out those dissatisfied aurors had seen, was to abandon their posts and to flee from the defection tribunal they were about to face for this, by running into Grindelwald’s welcoming arms.

Percival never would’ve thought he’d one day join the damn Kraut and still, here he was right in the middle of his stronghold. Percival also wouldn’t have believed it if someone had told him that he would be amongst the first of those deserting and that his rebellion would inspire and encourage many more aurors to do the same.

The American and English ministries and politicians were subsequently put under enormous pressure by the fact that so many previously lawful, upright aurors had suddenly abandoned their posts and had decided to join Grindelwald’s movement. More and more accounts on why those aurors that had deserted had decided to run away came to light in the aftermath. To the ministries’ misfortune, the public did no longer readily swallow the placating lies they tried to feed it. The politicians’ attempts at covering up the scandal were thwarted by excellent journalists telling the stories of those aurors that had been ready to share them.

The nation-wide law enforcement especially in America had practically come to a stand-still as a result of this. Too many key figures like himself that were impossible to quickly replace had left after all. Percival had to admit that it hurt a bit to watch the institution he had worked for start to cave in on itself, but he knew without a doubt that this was necessary. Rats had creeped their way inside the very foundations MACUSA had been built on and had started to steadily weaken them. Those certainly needed to be flushed out first before they could start anew.

Shaking his head to clear up his thoughts, Percival glanced to his right from where he heard footsteps approaching him. Grindelwald came to a stop by his side a second later, his hands clasped behind his back. The dark lord stood turned towards Newt and barely looked at the former auror beside him.

“Are you ogling my husband?” Grindelwald asked after a brief pause, his voice deceptively soft. He threw an askew glance at Percival to gauge his reaction, one eyebrow raised as if daring the American to try to tell him a lie.

Percival turned to fully face the man beside him, expression serious. “I’ll have you know that I’m not suicidal,” the former auror declared.

“Good.” Grindelwald replied, relaxing somewhat as he let a small smile pull up one corner of his mouth. “In that case we might just get along, yet!” he added cheekily before he turned away and started to walk towards where Newt was busy explaining something about diricawls to Credence.

“Now, don’t get too cocky, you rat bastard,” Percy needled back, his tone of voice not really hostile though.

Pausing and looking back over his shoulder, Gellert regarded the former auror with an unfazed expression.

“I’ll let that slide this once, since you’ve apparently played an important part in freeing Newt,” Gellert commented, before he sauntered off to look after his husband.

A lopsided smirk on his lips, Percival had to admit though that despite everything, he might truly see himself getting along with the sarcastic bastard that had dared to impersonate him for a few weeks.

‘_Mercy Lewis! I must be going mad!_’ Percival thought in regard to his previous epiphany that he, the former director of magical law enforcement, could actually see himself getting along with the darkest lord of their time.

In that moment, Percival noted how the blonde that he had until recently thought to be nothing but a merciless terrorist, did genuinely care for and love the two shy men currently playing in the courtyard. The way Grindelwald affectionately cradled the diricawl that had assaulted him by flying directly at his chest, did not at all fit with the image of the man Percival had had in his head.

Percival couldn’t help but to smile at the strange turn fate had taken and the many unlikely to fit together persons it had somehow managed to unite in the end. Life indeed remained strange and surprising, no matter how much one was sure of where they was standing and where they wanted to go.

**~ Another 2 weeks later, in a small town in Switzerland ~**

Newt and Gellert had been talking about Credence over the last few evenings and seeing how far the boy had come along, they had agreed that visiting one of the closer towns around Nurmengard would most likely be beneficial for the shy, young man. The obscurial had blossomed in the handful of weeks he had spent under Newt’s care, getting much more confident and sure of himself and his abilities. While Newt had been there to coax the boy out of the shell he had hidden himself in, Gellert had guided Credence as he had started to tentatively explore his magic that he had kept suppressed so far.

The boy had improved remarkably under their tutelage, clearly very strong and talented when it came to learning the first steps of how to handle his magic. Since neither Newt nor Gellert had ever taught an apprentice the very basics of magic from the get go though, they felt like getting some books describing exercises and wand techniques for beginners might be an excellent idea. Newt then had the idea that they could combine the book shopping trip with their plan to show Credence some more of his new surroundings.

A day in the middle of the week on which the streets and shops likely wouldn’t be too crowded had been chosen for their shopping trip. When said day came around, all three of them ate their breakfast together before they left Nurmengard in the late morning. Gellert had some of his own business to take care off and Newt told him to go ahead, since he and Credence would be fine on their own.

Standing in a quiet alley in the Swiss town they had portkeyed to, Gellert hesitated though. By the expression on his face it was clear that he didn’t want to leave the other two alone, but he remembered the discussion he had had with Newt. He had promised to work on his over-protectiveness and Newt seemed to be intent on putting his word to the test today.

Gellert let out a sigh as Newt simply regarded him with raised eyebrows.

“Alright, I’ll go,” he acquiesced dejectedly, “but you’ll call me as soon as something’s wrong, ok?” he couldn’t help but to reassure himself.

“Yes, I will,” Newt replied, his eyebrows drawing together a smidge, “I though we’ve discussed this, love.”

“We did,” Gellert reassured earnestly, “I just wanted to make sure…”

Newt smiled at the blonde in fond exasperation, but leant over and gave him a peck on the lips anyway.

“We’ll be in the bookshop over there,” Newt said as he turned to step out of the quiet side alley they had appeared in. “So, see you soon!” Newt threw over his shoulder with a wave of his hand.

“Bye,” Credence mumbled towards Gellert with a small smile before he followed after Newt.

“Take care of yourselves!” Gellert called after them. He stayed to watch them cross the road and enter the bookshop a few houses down the street. Only once the two of them had safely made it inside, did Gellert apparate away to take care of his own business.

**~*~**

A small bell chimed softly to announce the new customers as Newt pushed open the door of the medium sized bookshop. Credence shuffled inside after him and sought a bit of support by staying close to Newt. Credence and Newt peered around the two-storey bookshop, slightly lost on where to find the section that held the kind of books they were looking for. In that moment, a portly and slightly rugged looking elderly man stepped out from what was presumably the back room.

“Hello, gents! Welcome to Bodt’s Books,” he greeted the two newcomers in accented English, since he had instantly noted that the two men obviously weren’t from around here. His voice was slightly gruff as he approached the two new customers lingering uncertainty in the front half of the shop. He mustered them quickly. “I’m Alfred Bodt senior. Now, how may I help you?” he asked as he came to a stop before Newt.

“Hello,” Newt greeted. “We're looking for some beginner books for him,” Newt explained as nodded at Credence.

“Ah, yes, follow me then,” the owner replied after a quick glance at the dark haired boy. He turned around and led the two men up the stairs to a section of bookshelves on the second floor. “What are you looking for specifically?” he asked, glancing between Newt and Credence.

Newt peered at the descriptions on the bookshelves and noted that the storeowner had taken them to the section holding study books for already experienced wizards that are about to train for a job or apprenticeship. Newt corrected the owner once he had noticed that those were not the kind of books he was looking for, politely asking for beginner’s books once more.

“What?” The bookshop owner frowned at the redhead and gave his dark haired companion a judgemental once-over. “You mean, like books for little snot nosed brats?” he asked quite rudely.

Newt ducked his head, feeling deeply uncomfortable about a virtual stranger judging him and his ward, only to find them obviously lacking. Anger started to well up in Newt however, when he noticed how Credence had started to hunch over as he slightly hid behind him. Newt bit his tongue for the moment though, not wanting to cause a scene.

“I meant books for wizards beginning to learn basic spells,” Newt muttered wishing for the shop owner to just shut up and show them to the right section already without any further snide comments.

Disgruntled, the bookshop owner looked the pair up and down before he grumbled, “Alright.”

They went back downstairs and Newt noted that this time the man had fortunately led them to the right section.

“You want something like this?” the store owner asked as he held aloft a book titled ‘_Basic Wand Techniques and Spell Casting’_.

“Yes,” Newt replied curtly, keeping his irritation in check.

“Right,” the bookstore owner commented as he handed Newt the book. “He an imbecile though or what?” the owner added with a frown and as he nodded Credence’s way.

Newt’s eyes snapped up to the storeowner’s, his protective instincts rearing their head sharply as Credence shrunk back behind him. Deeply offended, Newt’s green eyes were pure acid as he glared the store owner down, the fierceness of his stare making the older man feel unsettled all of a sudden.

Newt casually threw the book he had been handed onto the stack of books displayed on a table beside him without breaking eye contact with the rude storeowner.

“Don't you dare talk to me or my son like that ever again!” Newt hissed, his voice uncharacteristically low and a definite threat in his words.

The tense silence following Newt’s words got interrupted by the chime of the doorbell that signalled that another customer had entered the book shop.

The shop owner was just about to retort something to his insolent customer, when an arm wound itself around the redhead’s waist. The latest newcomer leaned over and placed a kiss on the redhead’s neck.

“Everything alright here, darling?” the very recognizable blonde man crooned softly into the redhead’s ear. He had spoken loudly enough however, to be heard by the bookshop owner that had frozen in shock and fear.

“No, I'm afraid it’s not,” the redhead replied, much to the store owner's horror.

‘_Shit, I’m dead!_’ Alfred Bodt senior thought, a light suddenly going off in his head as he realized that the two men who had entered his store a few minutes ago must be Grindelwald’s redheaded partner as well as the infamous obscurial boy. _‘Oh, if only I had kept my damn mouth shut!_’ the pale as a sheet bookshop owner thought. But it was too late now, death was already staring at him and he had mismatched light and dark eyes. Alfred Bodt senior couldn’t help but to recall how Grindelwald had recently made it very clear in London that the magizoologist was his and that he'd do anything to protect him.

“You don't look so well, why don't you take a seat?” Grindelwald suggested offhandedly before he made the storeowner stumble back and ungainly plop down on the next display table with a simple gesture of his hand. “Come on, my boy,” Gellert started as he put his hand on the shoulder of the slightly hunched over, dark-haired man, “I saw an amazing ice cream stand just two streets from here,” he said before he guided the unresisting boy toward the exit.

Without breaking eye contact even once, Newt took out his wand and transfigured the bookshelf holding the books for beginners into a miniature version of itself. Picking up and putting the shrunken down shelf into his coat pocket, the redhead threw the store owner a last acidic glare before he followed after the other two men. On his way to the door the redhead made a few display tables topple over as well.

“Good day, sir,” the redhead sneered before he joined the blonde still holding the door open, blatantly stealing a whole bookshelf in broad daylight.

Whimpering once the tension in the shop had dissipated after the redhead had thrown the door shut behind him, the store owner collapsed, disbelieving that he was somehow still alive.

**~*~**

Outside, on the streets of the idyllic Swiss town, Newt immediately went to Credence’s side and gently stroked a hand down the boy’s arm as he walked beside him.

“You alright, Credence?” Newt asked quietly, his expression soft and concerned as he at once returned to his doting and motherly self.

“Yes, I’m ok,” Credence replied with a small, grateful smile as he glanced back at Newt. Credence found that he was still deeply moved by how ready Newt had been to stand up for and protect him.

“Good, but I want you to know that it’d be ok if you wouldn’t be,” Newt assured, as always very supportive and understanding of the boy. “That bookstore owner has said some very rude things after all.”

“No, really. I’m fine,” Credence assured once more, a warm feeling spreading inside his chest. He had been very lucky that Newt had been to one to find him first that day in Berlin. He wouldn’t want to imagine how well he’d be if the aurors had been a bit faster and gotten to him before the magizoologist had. Feeling a bit daring, Credence looked up and smiled at Newt. “Back in the bookshop …you’ve called me ‘son’…” Credence mentioned before he nervously chewed on his lower lip, a bit unsure of Newt’s reaction.

Very interested in what Newt was going to reply, Gellert turned his head to him as well, but kept silent.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Newt said, lowering his eyes. A blush rapidly spread on his cheeks as he fidgeted, feeling embarrassed by his slip up. “I was so angry, it must have slipped out…”

“It’s alright,” Credence placated quickly. Blushing a bit himself, he admitted quietly, “I-I kind of liked it…”

“Oh, Credence,” Newt said with a wide, joyous smile lighting up his face as he pulled the boy into a tight hug.

Gellert’s eyes softened and he watched the two of them hug with a sentimental smile on his lips. It had come as no surprise to him that Newt with his caring and gentle nature had immediately taken the shy Obscurial into his heart. He was a bit surprised at his own parental feelings though that had blossomed in the short weeks Credence had been with them.

Once the other two had parted from their hug, Gellert stroked a hand through Credence’s hair and gave Newt a chaste kiss on the cheek.

“Come on then, my sweets,” he said, smiling warmly as he started to lead them to the ice cream stand he had come across earlier.

Gellert had never wished for a family, but now that he apparently had one, he knew he’d never trade them in for anything in the world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extremely sappy ending and a meme to balance out all the pain ;D


End file.
